


order now & get a two-for-one deal!

by hi_raeth



Series: Infomercials [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, THE FLUFF. IT HATH RETURNED, featuring two-second appearances from: Han Rose and Kaydel, it's a pregnancy fic!, no christmas celebrations this time because guess what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16088303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_raeth/pseuds/hi_raeth
Summary: 'Tis no longer the season for giving, but Rey and Ben find themselves dealing with yet another unexpected surprise as they move into Varykino, plan their wedding, and prepare for the arrival of their firstborn.Featuring: soft, domestic, fluffy Reylo and... wait, no, that's it. That's the fic.





	order now & get a two-for-one deal!

Three days after the big move, Ben walks past the en-suite of their new bedroom in Varykino and promptly does a double-take when he spies her through the open door.

Rey can hardly blame him; after all, she herself has been stuck in a somewhat-catatonic state since she first stepped out of the shower five minutes ago and caught a glimpse of her reflection. Because there in the mirror is the teeniest-tiniest hint of a bump, a bump that had most decidedly _not_ been there when she went to bed last night.

“Is that…?” Ben asks quietly, hesitantly, abandoning his morning routine to step into the bathroom and observe her with wide eyes and an air of wonder.

“I don’t know,” Rey tells him, running a hand up and down her belly to feel the slight curve. Ben draws closer, and she reaches for his hand, guides him to do the same. Their eyes meet in the mirror, where the reality of their situation seems ten times more obvious. “Everything I’ve heard and read says twelve to sixteen weeks, but…” she gestures helplessly at the bump, discrete and nearly indiscernible to the naked eye but undeniably _there_ at just nine weeks.

Ben moves, and she tears her eyes away from the mirror to watch him slowly get down on his knees. He curves his hands around either side of her waist, thumbs reverently caressing the small protrusion that Rey can easily detect now that she knows what she’s looking for.

“Hello, little one,” he murmurs, warm lips brushing against her bare skin.

Rey swallows a lump in her throat, watches on with a smile as Ben gently rests his forehead against her stomach before he gets to his feet. “This is all your fault,” she chides teasingly, leaning into him with a sigh.

“I thought we’d established that,” Ben chuckles, pressing a kiss to her temple as he pulls her closer. “But what is it this time?”

“This baby – _your_ baby –” she pulls back to give him a pointed look, “is going to be _huge_.”

Ben winces at the realization and runs a soothing, apologetic hand up and down her back. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I reserve every right not to do this again,” Rey warns him, all previous plans of having two or three kids threatened by the thought of her upcoming labor.

“I’m a hundred percent behind you, no matter what you decide,” Ben assures her, and he’s so earnest and concerned and _Ben_ that Rey just sighs and hides her face in his chest for the next five minutes until she’s ready to go about her day.

As it turns out, they needn’t have worried about their baby being an only child.

Because at her first scan, they find themselves on the receiving end of some pretty unexpected news. The good news is that the baby isn’t going to be a giant. The not-actually-bad news?

They’re having babies.

Plural.

 

* * *

 

When they first set a mid-February date for their wedding all the way back in the last week of December, the rationale was that it would allow them to keep the pregnancy to themselves a little longer while still giving them the maximum amount of time to pull together a simple ceremony.

Needless to say, that plan goes down the drain the minute they find out about the twins.

Rey isn’t even showing _that_ much by her twelfth week, but her oversized sweaters and non-alcoholic beverages quickly clue their guests in, and they spend all weekend weathering twice the amount of congratulations and a barrage of well-meaning but still intrusive questions.

“No, it’s not a shotgun wedding,” Ben assures his Aunt Amilyn.

“I’m only twelve weeks along; you’re not supposed to announce it until your second trimester!” Rey reminds her disappointed friends.

“Yes, we’re having twins,” they find themselves announcing over and over again, usually to the disbelief of the person who’d only jokingly floated the possibility due to Luke and Leia.

The ceremony is lovely and the weekend is wonderful and Rey wouldn’t change a single thing about her wedding, but it’s still a relief when the last of their guests filter out of the house on Monday morning and she’s alone with her husband at last.

“We could go on a honeymoon, if you want,” Ben suggests when they crawl back into bed after saying goodbye to Han and Leia. “You’ve still got time before work starts.”

Rey shakes her head and burrows deeper into their nest of blankets. “And go where?” she asks, resting her head on Ben’s shoulder as he runs a hand up and down her arm. “This place is practically a resort all on its own,” she points out, staring up at the high ceilings of their room. It’s a far cry from the cramped quarters she spent most of her earlier years in, and Rey finds herself telling Ben as much.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it, living here,” she confides quietly, the first time she’s given voice to a thought that has been eating away at her since they moved in a little under four weeks ago. “I grew up in a hollowed-out van and now I live in a house so big it has multiple wings and people come by to clean it every other week. It just… it doesn’t feel real.”

Ben moves to prop himself up on one arm, careful not to jostle her as he does. “Rey,” he says gently, his warm hand sliding up to curve around her jaw. “This place is yours now, just as much as it’s mine. I’d like us to make a home here, but… but if you’re not comfortable…”

He loves Varykino. Rey has known this since the first time Ben brought her here, since the day they set foot in this house and he proudly gave her a full tour while telling her all about the home his grandparents shared in their happier days. There’s so much history here, a connection that anchors Ben and makes him feel at ease in a way no other place does. And yet–

“If it’s too much, we can move,” he offers, and she knows he means it, knows he’ll pack up and leave this place without hesitation if that’s what she wants.

Rey blinks away tears, wonders if it’s too early to blame them on pregnancy hormones. “I would’ve _killed_ to play hide and seek in a house like this,” she admits with a quirk of her lips as she brings one hand up to rest on Ben’s nape. “And I want them to have everything I didn’t. It’s not too much, not for them.”

Ben leans down, presses a kiss to her forehead. “And for you?”

She tilts her head up, brushes her lips against his. “For me,” Rey sighs as Ben’s hand travels lower to rest lovingly on her stomach, and she decides she’s definitely going to blame her next words on the wedding and the babies and the sappiness of it all. “For me, home is wherever you are.”

 

* * *

 

At nineteen weeks, they find out they’re having twin girls.

“We’re still going with green though, right?” Ben asks on the way back from their appointment, stealing glances at the sonogram pictures in Rey’s hands whenever they stop at a red light.

“Yeah,” Rey says absently, unable to tear her eyes away from the pictures. “Yeah, I like green.”

The next day Ben brings home what must be at least two dozen green paint chips, and by Saturday he’s gotten all of the necessary supplies and banned her from going anywhere near the nursery while he works.

“Fumes,” he warns her, and plants a kiss on Rey’s scrunched up nose before he disappears upstairs for the next few hours, leaving her to watch bad TV and feel useless.

He reemerges hours later, freshly showered and clearly pleased with a job well done, but Rey doesn’t get to see the final result until the week after, when Ben reluctantly agrees that yes, four days is probably more than enough for the room to air out.

The sage green is just as calming as she’d thought it would be when she first pictured it, but–

“Um, babe?” she speaks up hesitantly, not wanting to put a damper on Ben’s good mood. “Did you… miss a wall?”

Because the wall at the end of the room, the one with the French windows, is decidedly _not_ sage green. It’s not the neutral cream color the room had originally been, either, and Rey is left to puzzle at the newly-painted white wall while a secretive smile tugs at Ben’s lips.

“You’ll see,” he tells her cryptically, and no amount of persuasion can convince him to say anything more than that. They go about their week, Ben buzzing with anticipation while Rey grows increasingly irritated by her cluelessness, until her grad school friend Rose Tico unexpectedly shows up on their doorstep Friday evening, art supplies in tow.

“Consider it a wedding-slash-baby gift,” Rose declares two days later, when she presents them with a painted vista of clear blue skies and lush, emerald green mountains that blend into the view from the windows.

After that Ben finally declares the nursery ready for furniture, and the first thing he does is put in the window seat Rey envisioned all those months ago. She spends long evenings curled up next to the window, watching Ben put together all of the pieces they’d selected with such care, and slowly the nursery starts to look like… well, a nursery. Rey can barely recall what it looked like before, but it’s almost too easy to picture what it’ll look like soon – especially when Han shows up with not one, not two, but _three_ cribs.

“Couldn’t let one granddaughter sleep on an antique while the other gets a brand new one, right?” he says in that gruff way of his as he, Ben, and Chewie carry the two new cribs upstairs. They’re fashioned out of white wood to match all of the furniture in the nursery, and Rey marvels at the realization that Ben and his father probably worked together to make sure everything matches.

The old crib – _the_ crib – is a rich, red mahogany that blends surprisingly well with the living room, where the girls will sleep during their daytime naps. It’s slightly bigger than most cribs Rey’s seen, and Han chuckles when she says so.

“Ben wasn’t always a giant, but I kinda had a feeling about him when I made this,” he tells Rey while Ben lets out an affronted _hey!_ at the descriptor. “Guess it’s a good thing I overestimated, huh?”

At the end of the day, long after Han and Chewie have said their goodbyes, Rey slowly climbs up the stairs and leans against the open doorway of the nursery, now completely furnished and just waiting for its occupants.

Ben finds her a little while later, a dish towel still slung over his shoulder from dinner preparations. “It’s really starting to sink in, isn’t it?” he murmurs, arms wrapping around her waist as Rey leans her back against his chest.

“I’m not ready at all,” Rey admits as she rests her hands over his, over their children. “But at the same time, I can’t wait.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” Ben murmurs, lips brushing against her temple. “Only a few more months to go,” he reminds her, and Rey is pleased to find that her anticipation outweighs her terror.

 

* * *

 

Early into her third trimester, Rey develops anemia.

It’s par for the course with twins, the doctor assures them, and as long as she takes her iron pills and doesn’t start to lose weight, everything should be fine.

“Are we sure I can’t just eat like, eight iron-heavy meals a day?” Rey grumbles as Ben holds back her hair and rubs soothing circles into her back; the nauseating side-effect of the iron pills makes it feel like she’s dealing with morning sickness all over again.

“Pretty sure,” Ben says with a sympathetic grimace as he helps her to her feet and over to the sink, filling a glass with cool water while Rey rinses her mouth out.

They shuffle down the stairs shortly after, Ben supporting her the whole way down, and he gets her settled on the couch before disappearing into the kitchen to make her an iron-rich breakfast. Rey reaches for the notebook on the coffee table, abandoned the night before, and proceeds to add at least twenty more potential names while Ben prepares half a dozen eggs and squeezes fresh orange juice.

When she gets to the fifth page, Rey decides it’s probably time to start trimming the list a bit. The easiest way would be to pair each potential name with their last name and cross out whatever doesn’t fit, but that’s when she realizes–

“Ben?”

“Yeah?” he calls from the kitchen.

“We forgot about last names.”

He appears a moment later, whisk still in hand, and Rey bursts into laughter at the horrified look on his face. “Oh my god, we completely forgot.”

Ben remains frozen in place, and when Rey finally gets her laughter under control the whisk in his hand threatens to set her off again. “Babe? You’re dripping egg on the floor.”

“Oh,” he says vacantly, staring at the whisk as if it’s in a completely different reality. “Oh, fuck,” he adds once he’s snapped out of it, and quickly rushes back into the kitchen.

“Kenobi-Organa-Solo is too much of a mouthful,” Rey decides a while later, when Ben reenters the room with a laden breakfast tray. “But Kenobi-Solo doesn’t sound right. And it feels wrong to drop Organa.”

“It’s funny, isn’t it?” Ben muses as he hands over her eggs and juice before he settles down next to her with his own portion. “This never came up when we got married. That’s probably why we completely forgot about it.”

Rey takes a moment to go through their past conversations, but to the best of her recollection they’ve never really had a discussion about last names, nothing more than a teasing _hello, future Mrs. Solo_ here and there during the brief seven weeks that they were engaged. Never once has Ben floated the possibility of her taking his name, and she would never consider being anything other than Rey Kenobi anyway, not after all that time it took her to finally discover and claim her last name.

But…

“We could just go with Organa-Solo,” Rey suggests casually, sipping at her orange juice while Ben processes the idea.

He waits until she’s set her glass down on the end table before he reaches for her hand, doesn’t speak until she’s looking right at him. “Sweetheart, I know how much being a Kenobi means to you.”

“It does,” she agrees, lacing their fingers together, “which is why I’ll always be Rey Kenobi. But I don’t actually know what it _means_ to be a Kenobi, Ben. I treasure every single moment I had with my grandfather, but he’s the only link I ever had to that name. I don’t know anything about the Kenobis, or what it means to be one – I wouldn’t have a single family story to tell our kids,” Rey points out, fights back a sudden swell of tears and gives Ben a watery smile instead. “But the Organa-Solo name and everything it means to you… I know all about that. I love everything about it. And that’s what I want our kids to have: the connection that you do, the family history that comes with it.”

Ben lifts their joined hands, brushes a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Are you sure about this? We don’t have to decide yet–”

“I’m sure,” Rey tells him firmly, lets go of his hand to card her fingers through his hair. It’s shorter than usual – he had it cut just three months ago, when work started – and Ben moves closer to oblige her, makes it easier for her to reach what little he’s grown out so far. “A hundred percent sure,” she adds for good measure as he leans into her touch.

He reaches out to wrap one arm around her waist – still able to effortlessly encircle her even now, at thirty weeks – and gently tugs Rey towards him. “Okay then,” Ben murmurs against her lips, “let’s raise some Organa-Solos.”

Now if only they could decide on first names.

 

* * *

 

A week before her doctor plans to induce labor, Rey finds herself tossing and turning all night, cursing the August humidity and chiding her restless daughters as she carefully rolls out of bed. It’s a miracle that she manages to get off the mattress without alerting Ben to her absence, and Rey holds her breath for a good five seconds as she waits to see if he’ll get that furrow between his brows she sometimes notices right before he reaches out for her in his sleep.

Ben sleeps on, blissfully oblivious, and Rey shuffles towards the door as slowly as humanly possible, takes _forever_ to gently, gently let go of the doorknob so that it doesn’t give a sharp _click_ as it springs back into place.

In the kitchen, the microwave greets her with a neon-green _04:47_ , and in the distance she can see the faintest hint of dawn peeking out from between the mountains.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” she whispers, bringing both hands to her stomach with a smile.

As if in response, her entire abdomen and lower back cramp up.

Rey isn’t worried; at thirty-seven weeks, the twins are considered full term. _Probably won’t even need this,_ her doctor had said with a shrug when they’d scheduled the birth. _Honestly, I’ll be surprised if you_ don’t _go into labor by the end of week thirty-six._

 _O4:48_ , the microwave blinks. She presses a hand against her back, takes a deep breath. When it passes, Rey turns to look out the window and rubs soothing, absent-minded circles on her stomach while she waits.

“You two are going to be so loved, you know that?” she croons at her children, an odd mannerism that had appeared out of nowhere one day and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere. At least she hasn’t picked up the baby babbling or cutesy mom voice yet. “You already are, really. Your dad loves you more than anything in this world, and I’m not even jealous because so do I.”

There had been a time, shortly after she and Ben first started properly dating, when Rey had worried that maybe she wouldn’t. They’d started talking seriously about the future, about love and marriage and kids, and at night Rey would roll away from Ben and wonder if she was capable of that kind of love, the unconditional kind she occasionally glimpsed between him and Leia, him and Han. Her love for Ben has always been different, a slow-building thing that crept up on her after years of gradual development. The kind of immediate, automatic love she’d always envisioned between family – _that_ she had never known, not even with her grandfather, and Rey had been so convinced then that she never would.

Six years later her doctor’s office called, and her heart immediately swelled in size.

“I loved you the second I knew you, even when I thought there was just one of you,” Rey tells her daughters, “and I’ll love you even long after I know nothing else.” There will be no abandonment, no sudden, unexplained disappearance or cruel severing of familial ties, no wondering where their mother is or when she’ll be back or if she ever loved them in the first place.

Another contraction rolls through her, and Rey’s fingers reflexively curl around the kitchen counter.

 _04:59_ , the microwave tells her.

“Okay,” Rey sighs, dragging herself over to a bar stool at the breakfast counter. “Okay, kids. You two take your time. Mommy can wait.”

 

* * *

 

Lake Country slowly comes to life while Rey breathes and pants her way through her contractions, until eight o’clock rolls around and another one hits her just seven minutes after the last.

She calls Dr. Connix, explains the situation, and carefully makes her way back upstairs after arrangements have been made.

At eight-thirty, freshly showered and dressed, she gingerly sits down on Ben’s side of the bed and slowly shakes him awake.

“Times’it?” he slurs, lifting one heavy eyelid to blink at her as he rolls over to lie on his back.

Rey smiles, slips her fingers into his hair and gently cards through the tangles. “It’s time,” she says simply, and waits for the exact moment it hits him.

A good fifty seconds later, Ben bolts upright so abruptly that Rey nearly bounces off the mattress.

“It’s time!” he exclaims, hands shooting out to stabilize her. “It’s time? Oh god,” he mutters when Rey nods, getting to his feet. “Oh god, it’s time. We need to– where’s your bag? We need to call the doctor. Where are my keys? Do we need–”

She watches on in fond amusement until a wave of pain hits her, and Ben is by her side the second her smile turns into a wince. It’s nice, being able to lean into him for support, and the way he brushes loose hair back from her face is so soothing that Rey wonders why she didn’t wake him up earlier.

“Fuck, that looks painful,” Ben says the second she opens her eyes, and with a quick kiss to her temple he’s off again, scurrying around the room like a headless chicken while he tries to track down everything his panicked mind tells him they’ll need. “We need to go, right now. They can’t give you an epidural if we’re late, right? We’ll get you one of those. Or more, if you need more. Where the _hell_ is that bag?”

“Ben,” Rey groans as she pulls herself up, gratefully letting him support her weight when he dashes back to her. It’s ridiculous, that he can be a panicky mess one second and a source of strength the next, and she wonders which side will win out once the babies finally decide they’re ready. But for now–

“Breathe,” she tells him, turns her head to press a kiss to his shoulder.

He chuckles, but it’s tinged with nerves. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

“You keep me calm and I’ll keep you calm,” Rey proposes as she turns in his arms. “Now, Dr. Connix is expecting us in an hour. The bag is by the front door. I just need you to shower and get dressed, okay?”

A mask of composure settles over Ben, a familiar, comforting sight she hadn’t realized she needs right now. “Okay,” he whispers, brings his hands up to gently cup her face and kiss her soft and slow, as if she isn’t in labor, as if they have all the time in the world. “Okay,” Ben murmurs against her lips before he helps her back down into a sitting position on the bed. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

“Not going anywhere,” Rey quips with a grin that turns into a grimace as another contraction begins to make itself known.

Ben grasps her hands, stands stock-still as she squeezes them. “Ice chips,” he mutters as she does her best to breathe normally. “You need ice chips. I could probably go smash up some ice downstairs–”

Rey opens her eyes to find his forehead lined with concern. “Ben,” she reminds him, perhaps a little sharply.

It does the trick. “Right,” he says, reluctantly letting go of her hands. “Right. Shower first, then hospital, then ice chips.”

“Good plan, babe,” Rey tells him, and heaves a sigh of relief as he finally disappears into the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

By the time they reach the hospital, her contractions are five minutes apart and are starting to live up to the horror stories she’s heard – due, in most part, to the fact that her water broke in the car.

They give her an epidural as soon as she’s settled in, and Dr. Connix shows up shortly after for a quick examination. “Guess who won’t be needing a C-section after all?” she beams at them when she finds that the babies are cooperating.

“How much longer until…” Ben ventures to ask from his spot next to her, where he’s been braiding her hair into a crown for the past few minutes. Rey isn’t quite sure who he’s trying to distract – her or himself – but it feels nice anyway.

“Oh, shouldn’t be long now,” the doctor tells them with a shrug. “You went into labor around eleven last night, right?”

“I think so?” Rey answers. It’s all a little blurry now, given that she hasn’t slept in about twenty-four hours.

Connix nods. “Yeah, sounds about right. So you’ve been in labor for almost eleven hours now. And judging by how dilated you are plus the way your contractions are speeding up, I’d say give it another hour, two at most.” She’s so casual about it, as if she’s not talking about Rey pushing two _actual, real-life babies_ out of her body within the next hour.

She loves Ben’s shoulders, loves how broad her husband is and would love her daughters all the same if they come out with their father’s build but please, _please for the love of God_ –

Let them be tiny. Let them be Kenobis in just this one thing.

The doctor disappears after that, but Rey doesn’t really notice. Between the sleep deprivation and the idea of pushing _those_ shoulders out of _her_ tiny body and the soothing feeling of Ben’s fingers in her hair, she finds herself sufficiently distracted. The epidural probably helps, too.

“You look like a princess,” Ben declares softly when he finishes up with her hair, pulling her back into the waking world.

“Don’t I always?” she asks teasingly, shares a moment of quiet laughter with him.

Ben pulls his chair closer to the bed, leans down to kiss her. “I love you so much,” he whispers before he pulls back, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Just remember that when you’re pushing our babies out and threatening to kill me, okay?”

“ _Your_ babies,” Rey huffs, glares at him for all of a second before she softens and reaches for him. “Come here. You’re a better pillow than whatever this is,” she grumbles, gesturing at the lumpy pillows piled up behind her.

It takes some maneuvering, and Ben doesn’t allow his legs to touch the bed at all for fear of taking up too much space, but eventually Rey settles against him with a contented sigh and allows her eyes to drift shut while the weight of her husband’s warm, familiar arms settle around her.

The next time she wakes up, Ben is back in the chair and running his hands up and down her arms. “Rey, sweetheart, we need you to wake up now.”

She blinks her disorientation away, looks ahead to find a familiar nurse standing at the foot of the bed. “I’ll go get Dr. Connix,” the nurse says with a warm smile, her voice gentle yet excited all the same.

“What’s going on?” she asks Ben, reaching gratefully for the glass of water he hands her.

He brushes back loose strands of hair while she drinks, sets the glass down before he takes her hand. “It’s time, Rey.”

Time to push those broad shoulders out of her.

Time to give birth to their daughters.

Time to become a _mother_.

She thinks of her babies, of how it’ll feel to finally have them in her arms. She turns to Ben, who’s looking at her the way he does when he believes she can do anything in the world. She takes a deep breath, pictures her family, and smiles.

“Okay,” Rey announces, more to herself than anyone else even as she reaches for Ben’s hand, “okay, I’m ready.”

 

* * *

 

At precisely twelve o’clock on the sunniest day of summer, Baby Girl Solo #1 enters the world, followed by her younger sister three minutes later.

Ben gently dabs at Rey’s face with a cool, damp cloth while the doctor and nurses do what they have to do, and they’re both too stunned and overwhelmed and happy to do anything more than share dopey smiles that make their cheeks hurt and quiet bursts of laughter colored by disbelief.

Finally, the nurses return with two tiny – Kenobi-tiny, thank God – little human beings, and ease both babies into their parents’ waiting arms.

It takes everything in her to tear her eyes away from her firstborn, but Rey takes one look at her husband, his eyes wide and shining with awe, and knows exactly what to say.

“Hello, Padmé.”

Ben manages to take his own eyes off their youngest, shares a smile with her before he turns back to the baby and says the words that will complete their little family.

“Hi, Breha.”

**Author's Note:**

> No, really, this is the FINAL piece in this series. For real. I'm serious this time.
> 
> But also there might be a bonus scene on Tumblr later this week because they get up to some pretty hilarious stuff during that car ride to the hospital.
> 
> For now, though: I think I'm all out of emotional goodbyes for this series, so worry not, you have been spared. Two things: A. I did not expect this to exceed three thousand words; and B. I had no plans to name the babies, especially not the two most overused Reylo baby girl names. But it just felt right as I was writing the scene, and now I get to close out this series with similar last words for all three pieces so... I'm pretty happy, I think. And I hope you are too.
> 
> Thank you all for putting up with the most self-indulgent fluff to ever fluff, and I hope this series has brought as much joy to you as it has to me. As always, if you enjoyed this fic, please don't hesitate to leave a comment below. Or hit me up on Tumblr! I'm @eleanor-writes-stuff, and I love interacting with fellow shippers.
> 
> Okay, bye now!
> 
> UPDATE: [here's a bonus scene of the car ride to the hospital!](https://eleanor-writes-stuff.tumblr.com/post/178576844285/order-now-and-get-a-two-for-one-deal-deleted)


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